


cause i'm bleeding out, so if the last thing that i do is bring you down, i'll bleed out for you

by arrowsanonymous



Category: The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Read the tags properly, Short Chapters, There will probably be no fluff, When I say Major Character Death I fucking mean it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24178426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrowsanonymous/pseuds/arrowsanonymous
Summary: what if apollo had killed himself successfully?
Relationships: Apollo & Meg McCaffrey, Jason Grace/Piper McLean
Comments: 44
Kudos: 157





	1. so i bare my skin and i count my sins

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bleeding Out](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24177076) by [PetraMysticaCLXV](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetraMysticaCLXV/pseuds/PetraMysticaCLXV). 



> passages that are mass-italic-ed are parts that are almost verbatim from the books; i dont own those passages. i also changed the tense to the present tense.

_I don’t even want to try to draw my bow. I don’t attack Caligula. Instead, I turn the arrow inward and press the point to my chest._

_Caligula’s smile evaporates. He examines me with thinly veiled contempt. “Lester… what are you doing?”_

_“Let my friends go,” I say. “All of them. Then you can have me.”_

_The emperor’s eyes gleams like a strix’s. “And if I don’t?”_

_I summon my courage and issue a threat I never could’ve imagined in my previous four thousand years of life. “I’ll kill myself.”_

**_OH, NO, THOU SHALT NOT,_ ** _a voice buzzes in my head. My noble gesture is ruined when I realize that I’d drawn the Arrow of Dodona by mistake. It shakes violently in my hand, no doubt making me look even more terrified than I actually am — not that it matters, because I_ am _very terrified. Nevertheless, I hold the arrow as steadily as I can._

_Caligula narrows his eyes. “You would never. You don’t have a self-sacrificing instinct in your body!”_

_“Let them go,” I insist, pressing the arrow against my skin hard enough to draw blood, “or you’ll never be the sun god.”_

_The arrow hums angrily in my head, protesting the fact that I’m about to use it for suicide, while Caligula confers casually with Medea, no doubt thinking that I’m bluffing._

_“Look, Apollo,” he sighs, turning back to me, “you can’t expect this to have a happy ending. I’m not Commodus. I’m not playing a game. Be a nice boy, let Medea kill you correctly, and I’ll grant your ‘friends’ a painless death. That’s my best offer.”_

_I decide that Caligula will be a terrible car salesman as I observe everyone else despite the insistent buzz from the Arrow of Dodona. Piper seems to have gone catatonic, her neural pathways probably overloaded with trauma. Crest has wrapped himself in his own ears. Jason continues meditating, though I doubt he’ll be able to reach nirvana in his cocoon of storm._

_Meg attempts to yell at me and gestures at me instead when she realizes her voice isn’t audible, possibly telling me not to be an idiot and to put down the arrow. I take no pleasure in the fact that, for once, I can’t hear her orders._

_The emperor’s guards stays where they are, gripping their spears. Incitatus munches on his oats like he’s at the movies._

_“Last chance,” Caligula says._

I have to yell at the Arrow to shut up before responding. “No, this is _your_ last chance,” I say with my steadiest voice. Suprisingly, I don’t sound like a squeaky toy. I sound one hundred per cent serious, which seems to cast some doubt into Caligula.

He narrows his eyes as Medea crosses her arms and glares at me. “Well,” he starts, but he doesn’t even finish. Instead, he lunges for the arrow.

 _Without hesitation, I plunge it right into my chest_. _Pain explodes from my sternum to all over my body_ , and it feels like I’ve pierced my heart. I know what that feels like because I’ve had that happen to me when I was still immortal. Then, for a few seconds, the screams and the pain and the chaos around me seems to be dulled. I can barely register what’s going on around me, and the Arrow doesn’t even complain. Or maybe I just can’t hear it.

And all of a sudden, the agony comes back, like I’m being lit on fire simultaneously, and my last word is a scream that accompanies the fountain of red, mortal blood as Caligula pulls out the arrow, his own reflexes too fast for his own good.


	2. and i close my eyes and i take it in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the super late update i have depression and it's 12 am

Piper feels like she’s stuck in a cage of shock and exhaustion, like those emotions are swirling around her as  _ venti _ . Her hands shake, her throat feels like she’s been force-fed sand, and she just feels generally not very nice. Of course, there’s also the fact that  _ Apollo  _ is dead, the fact that Jason and Meg falls to the ground as Medea loses her shit completely, and other such things in the scene of general chaos.

Both Caligula and her are screaming and yelling at each other, paying no attention to Apollo—Lester’s—body and the vividly red blood that streams out of his chest. His eyes are closed, his expression scared but saying  _ “I wish I can atone for my sins in a better way than dying. I’m sorry I had to die before making up for all the fuck-ups I’ve done _ .”

Meg let loose a guttural scream of rage as you do when your slave-slash-friend dies. She gets up and takes out her anger on the  _ pandos  _ around her.

Jason pushes himself up from the floor while the two people that holds any semblance of power insults each other viciously. To Piper, even from the floor with her broken jaw, Jason looks tired and out of breath, yet he fights as if he’s in prime condition. Meg has somehow caused vines to grow all around and wrap the  _ pandos,  _ stealing one of their weapons _.  _

Even as exhausted as she feels, seeing Jason move with quick efficiency reminds Piper of her own strength. She manages to force herself to stand and stumble over to Jason. “You’re alive,” she tries to mumble, shooting pain all over her jaw and blinding her temporarily, but she forces herself to ignore it. Sure, it hurt like hell, but really, she just needs to say those words.

“I am,” Jason replies sadly. “And  _ you’re  _ alive, too.”

Piper manages a pained smile, considering her busted lip and several of her missing front teeth and the fact that her jaw is placed too far to the left. Blood trickles down her chin. She tries to convey  _ “This is it,”  _ with her eyes.

“No,” he answers, apparently understanding her unsaid words. “We will survive this. We will be the only ones who remember.”

Their eyes meet. Every color of the rainbow meets pure, true blue. And they may not  _ love  _ each other, but in that moment: they  _ understand _ .

Medea cuts off her bickering with Caligula and turns, remembering Piper’s existence just in time for her fist to do that for Medea’s lower face. The sorceress’ lip joins Piper’s in the  _ painfully split lip club _ in no time.

It turns into a messy fight between the two. Jason’s energy is focused on fighting Caligula while Meg, angry but exhausted, turns into a terrifyingly effective killing machine. Honest-to-god. This girl is  _ twelve  _ and she fights like Jason—who has an arrow sprouting out from his left thigh and right arm, but he’s still wielding his sword as if the wounds mean nothing. Caligula seems to be growing more and more aggressive. Piper and Medea are both a mess, broken jaws and bloody nails adorning both of them. Meg seems to be struggling to retrieve her swords using stolen weapons. All in all, a normal fight.

“We have to retreat!” Jason yells, which is probably a bad idea to yell when your enemies can hear you, but since he’s going to be dead soon, Piper is half-dead, Apollo is  _ dead _ , and Meg is  _ about _ to be dead, there isn’t really a better option anyway.

* * *

She can’t remember how they got out. Jason’s turned pale, probably from blood loss, and Piper’s jaw feels like it’s going to fall off at any minute, and Meg… the poor kid can barely stand straight. Her hands shake with the weight of Apollo’s body, but she doesn’t understand how Jason can hold his head up with blood streaming down his limbs. “Should I… should I call Tempest again?” he suggests weakly, looking at her trembling limbs.

Piper blinks twice, agreed-upon code for  _ no _ . She can see Jason’s tired eyes and her old soon-to-be-ex-house in the distance, and a car up front. Maybe she can drive. Get medical attention. Get Apollo a coffin. But then… what’s next?

What’s next for the disgraced McLean family, with a dead body on their doorstep and debt on their bank accounts? Jason’s going back to school. Piper’s leaving, finding a new life somewhere else. Could they stay in touch?

And what’s Apollo’s fate going to be?

Her dad spots them, eventually, Meg swaying dangerously as if about to collapse. Piper slowly shifts her hand to carry Apollo better as Tristan McLean runs towards them with worry etched into his face.

“What happened?” he asks, taking in their bloodied and battered appearance as the Mist works overtime to cover up their magical wounds. “Did you get into a car… car crash?”

Jason intervenes. Always the superhero, always saving the day, he nods. “Medical attention would be really appreciated, sir. Could you… call 911? For help?”

A nod. Her dad pulls out his phone, vaguely distracted by their loss and yet still managing to pull himself together just enough for several phone calls. Piper wishes she’d gotten that ability; how people can appear calm and composed in certain situations never fails to baffle her.

“They’ll be here in two minutes,” he says, concernedly looking at Jason, then Meg, then Piper, from head to toe. “Maybe… sit down?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is gonna be from jason's 3rd person limited pov!! uh noneofyourdambusiness i think is your username this chapter is for you


	3. cause i'm bleeding out, and if the last thing that i do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they get admitted to the hospital, and jason talks with meg.

His hands shake, blood streaming down his arms in small rivers. Jason’s been trained to handle pain, to not show weakness or he’ll be the wolf pack’s dinner, but he’s not part of them anymore. Lupa isn’t here. So why is he still pretending that he’s fine? Why is he still putting up this front of strength and stability when Jason knows the only thing keeping him up is adrenaline? His heart pounds against his chest, and his own heartbeat drowns out the sounds of the world.

Piper looks at him, all concern and pain and  _ care _ , and Jason has to look away. The agony has dulled down to an ache, his nerves frayed, and his mind even more so. In the midst of this battle and the aftermath, Piper still stands there, a beacon of comfort and confusion. He couldn’t stand to see her all bruised and bloodied like this, and Jason knows she feels the same way.

But they both stay silent.

He glances towards Meg to ensure that she’s still breathing. Apparently the girl has decided to lay down on the asphalt, heat and sharp pieces of gravel and all, her breath uneven like she’s hiding an injury. For all Jason knows… she probably is. They need to get medical attention, either the mortal kind or the demigod kind, soon. 

Jason moves his gaze towards the empty horizon.

Knowing that he’ll need to come up with an alibi for their injuries, too unlikely to have been a result of a car accident, Jason sinks into his thoughts. How does a car crash cause a broken jaw for Piper and puncture wounds in all of his limbs and a stab wound on Apollo’s chest? The Mist can only do so much… not that he knows how it works very well. Maybe they wouldn’t even need a cover story.

The sirens jolt him out of his musings. Piper stands up gratefully, lifting Apollo’s body entirely by herself, and Jason hurries up to support the other half, not wanting Piper to do all the work when she’s already weakened. The wounds in his limbs twinge painfully, but he ignores it as he looks around for Meg—she’s been silent for quite some time. Jason worries that she’d fallen unconscious.

Her blades scrape the asphalt with a loud  _ screech  _ as Meg uses them to help herself up, and Jason’s first instinct is to drop Apollo and help her.

Piper starts walking forward, though, and Jason has to follow her lead to carry the corpse in tandem. Meg seems to have resorted to using her weapons as a cane, and all Jason hopes for is she can stay standing long enough until they reach the ambulance.

They don’t walk for long. Paramedics hurry towards them with a gurney, probably seeing the unconscious/dead figure they’re carrying, and lifts the weight of Apollo’s body from both Piper and Jason’s hands. But the guilt still settles heavily on his shoulders.

“Can you talk, Miss?” someone asks Piper as they both get ushered in the ambulance.

She shakes her head slowly, for  _ no _ , and the door closes just as Jason’s legs finally gives out. He drops to the floor with a  _ thud _ . Now that the adrenaline’s worn off, Jason registers the stabbing pain from the wounds in all of his limbs; especially on his thighs. He’s been through worse, but he still can’t handle pain as effectively as he would’ve liked.

The ride is a blur. All Jason remembers is Piper getting checked, and her knuckles turning star-white as she tries her best not to cry out in pain—his own wounds being checked and cleaned, but Jason knows he needs stitches—and the arrows. He almost forgot that the arrows were still in there. All of a sudden, the car stops.

_ I hope they removed it correctly,  _ his addled mind thought, as he gets placed on a harsh surface and carried out.  _ What did they give me? What’s going on? _

“You’ve been given sedatives… Jason, was it?” a face says, popping in and out of his blurry field of vision.  _ Did they remove my glasses?  _ “We need to perform emergency surgery.”

Those are the last words that Jason hears before the world goes black. 

* * *

Waking up from unconsciousness has always been jarring for Jason. He doesn’t wake up all of a sudden, like a switch being flipped, but rather in waves of senses coming back to him.

“Hello? Hello there? Can you hear me?”

Jason blinks. Once. Twice. His jaw feels sore, and he vaguely thinks that someone’s glued it shut, when he manages to open it and reply. “Y–yeah.”

The source of the voice swims in and out, but Jason forces his blurry vision to focus. A nurse with a kind smile hovers above him, holding a clipboard. “That’s great. Can you tell me your name?”

“Jason. Where—where are my glasses?” he manages, throat dry and voice hoarse.

She hands them over, and the world immediately turns crystal clear. But the glasses aren’t the only things the nurse has for Jason—a glass of water follows. He tilts his head and spots an unconscious figure, on a bed next to his.  _ Piper _ .

Jason looks at the water, and then to the nurse. All of his senses scream at him to stay alert, stay hypervigilant. Most of the time when people are kind to him or offer him help… it’s always been a monster. And Jason’s always had difficulty seeing through the Mist after being knocked unconscious. He wishes he has his weapon with him. “Ma’am, I… where is my other friend?”

“You’ve been unconscious for a day. Your friend, the one with the green dress, is at the hospital shops right now.” The nurse smiles. “Now, Jason, I have some questions and check ups for you, alright?”

He nods, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a tentative sip.  _ I don’t taste any kind of drugs _ . Being parched, he deduces that it is safe to drink. The surface is cold and smooth, and Jason realizes just how  _ hot  _ he feels, temperature wise, but he stays quiet as the nurse takes his blood pressure and does other medical things Jason tunes out.

“Any pain?” she asks, tucking away the equipment back to the trolley she walked in with. “You’ve got painkillers, but it’s a low dose.”

Jason frowns slightly, lowering the now-empty glass from his mouth. “Pain…? What happened, exactly?”

“You had surgery, dear,” the nurse says kindly, refilling his glass with more water. “Car crash. Recall anything?”

He does… all of the past events hitting him like a sledgehammer, painfully and in detail. Jason’s hand starts to shake and he has to place the glass down before spilling everything. The adrenaline counters the shock and the pain, but now, there’s nothing between him and Apollo’s death. “I—”

The door slams open, and Meg walks in, two of everything from the hospital’s shop in her arms. She spots Jason and blinks. “You’re awake.”

“Press the button if you need anything,” the nurse informs him, and takes her leave. 

Meg walks closer to him, the door closing gently, and pours all of the things she’s bought to his bed. “Piper’s still knocked out.”

“Y–yeah,” Jason manages to say, looking at Meg, who avoids his gaze. “Are you—are you alright?”

She finally meets his eyes, even if just for a split second, and Jason feels ridiculous for  _ feeling _ , because Meg’s irises alone gleam with sorrow and untold stories. How could he feel this shaken by Apollo’s death while this 12 year old girl, who was the god’s companion for months, is standing next to him quietly?

Meg’s hands find something on the pile near Jason’s thigh and she pulls it out, toying with the crinkling plastic. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

Jason realizes that Meg’s puzzling answer is just a wall she puts up to protect herself from any more grief, and his prior, mistaken assumption of this child in front of him crumbles away. He takes a deep breath. “That’s… that’s all right. Do you want to sit down?”

She frowns. “No, I’m good.” Nothing else. It seems like genuine kindness scares Meg, and Jason has only an inkling of an idea as to why.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Gods, he’s terrible at this. Jason isn’t the one people go to for comfort—and that is for multiple reasons—but he never realizes how terrible he really is at comforting others. “Apollo, I mean.”

The silence grows louder as Meg stills. She places the toy back down on the bed and looks down on the floor, silent, but Jason immediately knows he’s said the wrong thing. He pushes himself forward despite the twinge of pain that induces, and pulls the chair near him closer to Meg. “I’m sorry, I just thought—”

“It’s fine,” Meg replies quietly, and Jason stops. She’ll talk when she feels like it.

_ When she feels like it  _ apparently is just a couple minutes of silence later, and though Jason feels entirely out of his element—unconscious ex-girlfriend on one side, grieving child on the other—he keeps the calm façade. It’s the least he could do, and Jason knows that appearing composed can offer some semblance of comfort to certain people. He’s just not sure if Meg is one of those people.

Silently, he throws off his blanket and pours another glass full of water before grabbing his and drinking again. Waiting. Waiting makes Jason feel unbearably restless, like every part of him wants to  _ do something _ . But he’s had enough practice for waiting, and so he does.

“It’s stupid, I’m stupid,” Meg starts. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand roughly and continues, though the words sound like it’s costing her a lot to say. “I know that everyone could die. But Lester was a god. He shouldn’t have died.”

Jason stares at his glass of water, the surface rippling because of his shaky grip, then back up at Meg. “I… know that it doesn’t seem real. I don’t want it to be real. But, you don’t have to blame yourself for this.”

The fact that Meg’s answer is so soft throws Jason for a loop. She takes a shaky breath and glances down to the floor, as if  _ ashamed _ , and whispers, “I have to. It’s my fault.”

_ Oh.  _ Jason knows exactly what this feeling is. He was twelve and trained for war once upon a time, too. He offers the untouched glass of water to Meg, who takes it and downs half of the contents, still stubbornly looking at the floor.

“It’s not your fault,” Jason says, firmly but kindly. This, at least, he knows how to deal with. “If the Fates want to cut a string, they’ll do it. We all would replace Apollo’s place if we could in a heartbeat—gods know I would—but… he made the choice to save us. I was stuck with you, remember? None of us could’ve done anything.”

Meg raises her gaze and glares at him, tear tracks down her cheek and dark eyes gleaming with unshed sadness. “But I’m sick of not being able to do anything!” she exclaims, “I don’t want this! I… I didn’t want to lose someone else.”

The girl standing in front of him isn’t a warrior, or a soldier, or a battle-hardened demigod, Jason knows. What he _ doesn’t  _ know is how to comfort this grieving child, so he does the first thing he could think of. “Do you… want a hug?” Jason asks, awkwardly, but still genuinely all the same.

Without much hesitation, Meg walks closer to him and throws her arms around Jason. She feels warm and small, and Jason envelops her in his own arms, though the shock at such a display of trust doesn’t miss him. Maybe they’ll get through this. They will, somehow.

Jason glances over at Piper. He expects her to still be asleep, but she’s awake, watching the two with a rueful smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS WAS A RIDE TO WRITE BUT I ACTUALLY BROKE 2K WHICH IS FUN 🎉🎉
> 
> also im so sorry for abandoning this fic its just. writing hard, yknow


End file.
